Days Gone By
by Fire Lord Izumi
Summary: "We do what we need to do and then we get to live [...] Because this is how we survive. We tell ourselves that we are the walking dead." -Rick Grimes (2015).
1. Chapter 1

_Do you realize that you have the most beautiful face_  
_Do you realize we're floating in space_  
_Do you realize that happiness makes you cry_  
_Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die_

_Do you realize that everyone you know someday will die_

-Do You Realize; **by Ursine Vulpine**

* * *

A bead of sweat ran down the side of Annaliese's face as she bowed over the table, the pain of the contraction washing over her. It was endless, merciless.

Brighton watched on helplessly as she had for hours as Annaliese wrestled with the painful reactions of her body, fighting them. There was no victory though; she could not stop the pain any more than Brighton could. Annaliese fought to keep calm in the midst of the worst situation imaginable, but as more time passed, Brighton watched as more and more of her friend's sanity faded out of her frightened eyes.

She had every right to be frightened though. They were stuck in a filthy house with limited food, water, medical supplies, comfort — anything! Even the smallest cry from Annaliese could draw the attention of biters or survivors.

It killed Brighton as she stood beside her best friend, one hand gripped tightly in Annaliese's as the other trembled at her side; she did not like being helpless. She loathed not being able to help.

She had tried. She had tried checking the baby's progress and for any sign of excessive bleeding, but she knew so little when it came to childbirth. Nothing she did seemed to make the situation better. They were stuck for the time being.

And until then? They just had to wait. Well, Brighton had to wait. Annaliese had to labor.

She could see the pain wash over every time a contraction hit, watching the way Annaliese's shoulders tense and head bowed low. She hadn't wanted to sit down. That only made it worse. Annaliese wandered around the room, leaning against the walls and tables to bring her some measure of comfort.

Brighton didn't dare take her eyes of her, following her around the room with their hands interlocked. She wasn't sure what she could do, but she knew she couldn't leave her to face this alone. She had to support her however she could.

Her upper body slumped on the table as the contraction faded away from her body and she lay still for a moment before wearily lifting her head. She brushed the sweaty strands of hair out of her pale face. Drenched in sweat, she looked positively exhausted.

When her eyes met Brighton's though, they overflowed with tears. Brighton's fearful expression broke as her friend's head fell forward again and her shoulders bobbed with sobs. Blinking back her own tears, she used her free hand to gently rub her friend's back.

"I'm so sorry," Brighton murmured, feeling her eyes sting with unshed tears. "I'm so, so sorry."

Annaliese's hand tightly squeezed back on hers. Her tears were mingled with the sweat on her face as she lifted her weary head and turned it look at Brighton. "I can't do this," she rasped. "Not in here, not like this — God, what am I going to do?"

It was painful, and she was tired — it was the middle of the night, for God's sake! She didn't have a chance of sleeping now though; every time she got even remotely settled a contraction would tear through her peace like a bomb. There was nothing but the same walls to comfort her through it.

Lowering her head, she prayed. She called to God, to anyone who might hear her and stop this all from happening.

Nothing answered her though.

All of her worst fears were happening. The pain — it was so much more than she imagined! She had known labor would hurt, but _God_, it was almost unbearable. The pain had built steadily over the first hour or so until it had become solid, harsh contractions, the kind she hadn't expected to feel until she was ready to push.

Questions flooded her brain. Questions she didn't know the answers to. Giving birth in the apocalypse was far too risky. Unless there was a former medical professional with them, nobody knew anything!

That was why she had fretted so much with Brighton about preparing things. What if something went wrong? She couldn't help but think of it. What if the baby got stuck or if they were so small they needed help after they were born? They were only at thirty-six weeks.

Annaliese gasped raggedly, as another contraction rode firmly over her, trying not to let her fast breaths run away from her. A deep pinching in her hips made her heart beat like a drum. All she wanted to do was have the baby and go.

Brighton sighed heavily, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Annaliese groaned. She could feel it.

Her contractions were lengthy and regular, and that told her that she was close. Her body was done pushing the baby lower and was preparing to deliver them. It had taken her just a few hours to get to this stage — and that had supposed to be the longest section of labor.

She could only assume that her child was not far from being born.

"I think," she gasped, "I think they're coming now."

She felt Brighton's fingers move away from her back as she straightened up behind her. "What do you mean?"

Annaliese lowered her forehead down to the tabletop to catch her breath as the contraction started to ease up. She had no way of knowing for sure. She had no way of seeing how far dilated she was, she had no idea what was going on.

She trusted her body's instincts though. And those instincts told her that by the time the sun rose, she would be a mother.

It was already uncomfortable to stand with her legs close together, having stood with them apart for the last hour. Surely that had to tell her something about how low the baby must be in her pelvis. Perhaps it had already started to come. She had been feeling the urge to push for the last few contractions, but she had pushed them aside until now.

Was that really the right thing to do? To fight nature? Her baby wanted to be born _now_, and the only thing that delaying the birth would do was prolong her pain and put them at risk.

She couldn't do that. How would she forgive herself if something happened?

Her mind was slow to work from the pain and exhaustion, but she had to think, to find something. Screwing her eyes shut, trying to ignore the tight clench around her belly and the strong urge to push, she tried to think.

What could she do? What could she do to help her baby be born safely?

"Anna?"

As soon as Brighton spoke, Annaliese snapped her eyes open, inspiration hitting her suddenly — she needed to check the baby's position. As best as she could, anyway.

She stayed still and waited patiently, gritting her teeth until the contraction faded away again.

Once it had, she eased herself slowly upright and turned herself around, resting against the edge of the table until she felt stable enough to take her hands away. They instantly went to her stomach, gently padding her bump.

Annaliese completely ignored Brighton for now, leaving her watching with a furrowed concerned brow. Annaliese needed to concentrate for a minute.

"A head," she mumbled as she felt a movable lump just above her pelvis. She breathed in relief. A bottom and shoulder; the baby was head down. A brief smile flickered over her lips. As long as the child was head down, that would be significantly less dangerous to deliver.

"Anna, what's going on?" Brighton exclaimed.

Lifting her eyes to her friend, Annaliese steeled her gaze, brushing the last of her tears away from her cheeks. There was no time for tears now.

Straightening up from the table, she moved forward and took Brighton's hand. "We're going to deliver my baby," she said firmly, holding Brighton's olive-green eyes.

Brighton's expression was wary and pale. She was just as afraid as Annaliese was, if not more.

"I'm sorry you have to do this," Annaliese sighed. "Please don't make me do this on my own."

Brighton couldn't deny it, she was afraid. It was dangerous. Even the most experienced medical professional could not predict this outcome.

She was Annaliese's only assistant — she couldn't abandon her now.

Annaliese's eyes were looking at her imploringly. "What do you need me to do?" Brighton asked.

* * *

**(A/N):**

**So here's the first chapter! Hopefully you guys like it. Let me know what you think, okay?**

**Fire Lord Izumi**


	2. Chapter 2

_Like a river to a raindrop, I lost a friend_  
_My drunken as a Daniel in a lion's den_  
_And tonight I know it all has to begin again_  
_So whatever you do, don't let go_

Us Against the World; **by Coldplay**

* * *

28 Weeks Earlier

* * *

_The world has gone to shit. Dead people are walking around. People all around the city, the country, the world went crazy and started to bite others. The government deployed the army to contain what they are now calling an epidemic disease. Because it is __— was __— an epidemic. You get bit, and you break a fever. Just like when you get a cold but you don't heal. And the fever doesn't go away with antibiotics. No, you're burning from the fever like a furnace and then you die from it. But you don't stay dead for long, you come back. And when you do, you are not you anymore. You are just one of them, you're just a biter._

_In the news, they told people that there's somewhere safe in New Orleans. A shelter for the living, that everyone will be safe there. And Annaliese really hoped it would be safe and she really hoped her family made it out okay. There is so much going on __— everything is just..._

_Swallowing thickly, Annaliese felt her fingers tap against her thigh. She could feel her throat closing, her eyes stinging with tears. She'd just figured it out days earlier, her pregnancy, when the timing couldn't have been more terrible. With how things were going, Annaliese felt horrible. She felt sick to her stomach, knowing she'd be bringing a child into these conditions._

_"Anne?" __Turning her head, she was met with her boyfriend's worried expression. "You okay?" he asked. "You've barely said a word all morning."_

_"Yeah," she said, forcing a smile on her face. "I've had a lot on my mind."_

_"You don't need to worry about anything, I've told you already."_

_Annaliese nodded wordlessly. Her boyfriend, Matteo, had been trying tirelessly to reassure her, but it just wasn't working. She hadn't told him of the pregnancy yet, she was afraid of what he'd say, or do. What were they supposed to do? How were they going to survive with a newborn? They were struggling to take care of themselves in the new world, but figuring out how to handle a baby was something else entirely._

_Letting out a strangled sigh, Annaliese ran her fingers through her hair, hoping to calm herself down. She could feel her stomach churning, the need to throw up steadily building. She was beginning to discover that any bit of stress of worry sent her on a vomiting spree. It was absolutely disgusting. Annaliese hated anything involving bodily fluids __— a strange thing to dislike but she couldn't help it._

_A hand on her shoulder caused her to jump. Matteo was right beside her, his brows furrowed and a frown on his face. "Just tell me what's wrong," he murmured. "Obviously there's something bothering you."_

_"We're supposed to go to this camp, right?" Annaliese asked. "And everything's supposed to be okay?"_

_"Look, I don't like it either, but maybe we can give it a try." Matteo gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze but Annaliese shook her head._

_"I don't trust it," she exclaimed. "I want to believe it can help but I don't think it will."_

_"How do you know this?"_

_Sniffling, Annaliese let out a trembling breath. "I just...I can't believe it can work," she stammered. "Everything's already so crazy I just..."_

_Pulling her into an embrace, Matteo tried to hold back a sigh as he felt his girlfriend tremble against him. The government required that survivors of the outbreak go to designated safe-zones, but there was something about it that didn't feel right. If society as a whole couldn't stand an outbreak, what makes the government so sure the outbreaks could handle it?_

* * *

**(A/N):**

**This chapter is a bit short, and I'm sorry about that. If there's anything you think could some improvement, let me know, okay? I'd love to know what you guys think.**

**I'll try and update at least once a week if I have the chance.**

**Do I own anything in TWD? No. All I own are my OCs and my subplots.**

**Fire Lord Izumi**


End file.
